


Only This Moment

by thatonehiddlestoner



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-29
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-02 23:20:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1062859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatonehiddlestoner/pseuds/thatonehiddlestoner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wake up to unbearable silence and remember the void I fell through after the battle with my brother. The events that followed come rushing into my burning skull- horrible and unforgettable. After acquiring the scepter I have yet to dream again, let alone sleep. The hallucinations are becoming more persistent, who is this mystery? I must endure for a little longer; soon the Tesseract will be mine, the Chitauri army will invade, and I will fulfill my birthright as king of Earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Doors Open from Both Sides

**Author's Note:**

> Writing is new to me, but it makes me happy. Please enjoy.
> 
> This story is updated a week in advance on my Instagram, thatonehiddlestoner, hence why the chapters are short.
> 
> Any and all critiques welcome.
> 
> \---------
> 
> Only This Moment: 13+ Tom x Loki Marvel Universe fanfiction
> 
> This story takes place during “The Avengers(2012)”
> 
> Disclaimer: Marvel characters © Marvel Universe.   
> Story and other characters © me and Mythology.

Ch. 1 Doors Open from Both Sides

 

Loki falls in and out of conscious sleep and wakes up feeling more weary than before, but this mans' more frequent appearances frustrate the god to no end. It's always the same person. He is tall with curly dirty blond hair, a fair complexion and bright smile who escapes when he tries to look. Still there but always out of focus, like the figures that watch you from the shadows. Loki detests him. He watches the man but cannot see. He listens to the man but cannot hear. He feels the man but cannot touch. It is the same when his brother had Mjolnir so close but was unworthy to wield it. Thor...

 

Loki growls and gets up, none of this would have happened if the oaf had just stayed put. But that's not true... Losing his steam Loki exits his small cell and looks beyond the galactic horizon. The scepter shows him the manipulated truth, and being sucked into the vortex the bifrost left behind diminished the remaining hope he had tried to keep safe. Sighing the frost giant smiles bitterly, recessing deeper into himself, "It’s hard work being so mischievous."

 

The preparations are complete and all is going according to plan, but something inside the god of malice yearns for more. He scowls and takes out his daggers for practice; going through the motions of close combat he fine tunes his skill while letting off steam. The tugging inside persists and he becomes more enraged. Sweat trickling down his pale face and out of breath the god’s hollow eyes betray him as he gazes upon a silhouette in the distance. Squinting against the deep blue atmosphere trying to get a better look, the figure disappears as it walks away. Shaking the vision out of his thoughts he sheaths his daggers.

 

"A higher purpose is what I search for." Loki angrily repeats under the purgatory of moonlight, "I am the rightful king." He is interrupted by Thanos' servant, the one who bestowed upon the fallen god the scepter. He faces the alien with his head slightly lowered.

 

“It is time, son of Laufey. Our army grows impatient.” He informs his captive.

 

“All in good time.” He holds his silver tongue, knowing the consequences otherwise. The alien scoffs, stepping closer to Loki who instinctively flinches.

 

“Our people yearn for blood and destruction. If you really are the true heir, see to it that this Earth realm suffers by our hands.”

 

“As you wish.” He curses internally for having to speak such fluff. Without further conversation Loki begins his decent onto Midgard tapping into the scepter for power, the impression of the shadow man still lingering in the back of his mind. Familiar blue light engulfs the unkempt god and he feels at ease in the shift between dimensions. “I will cause chaos and inflict fear into the hearts of mortals, all will know my name!” He begrudgingly repeats, “And I will gain my throne.”


	2. Arrival

Tom turns the shower knob stopping the steady stream of hot water and leaving the men’s gym room eerily quiet. He listens to the deluded sounds of weight lifting equipment and pop music as he towels off. Today had been hectic, he barely had enough time to even think and now it was over. The man sighs heavily and wraps the towel around his waist, pacing over to where his belongings are and dresses. He was getting a lot of attention lately which he was truly grateful for, there was just less time for him now and he found it more difficult to stay disciplined with his routine.

And then there was the stranger: a lonely dark soul filled with crippling despair. When Tom had first seen the man in his dreams his heart ached and he sobbed. From then on he notices the black figure often from the corner of his eye, just out of reach. The pain in the actor’s heart is foreign but real and it takes its toll on his mind. Tom grieves for him. Wishing that in some way he could comfort the fallen soul, whatever he or it was. 

He drives home not paying attention to the news on the radio, eager to just get in bed. In a few days he will be traveling to Germany for a Shakespearean conference in Stuttgart and he needs to pack. Tom unlocks his front door and walks into his house setting down his keys on a small table nearby. It won’t take him long to get things together, he’s quite skilled at traveling now. Heading towards his room he pushes thoughts of the other man away.

“I better get started before get sidetracked,” he says aloud to himself, feeling more positive with each step. He’s actually looking forward to this event; as the world already knows by now that he loves the classics, particularly Shakespeare. The flight to Germany isn’t going to be long and he won’t stay for more than a few days so he packs two suits and a casual outfit, along with the basic toiletries. 

Closing the suitcase and leaving it near the doorway he undresses down to his boxer shorts and lays into his neatly made bed, covering himself with the duvet. Exhausted, he quickly fell into an agitated sleep, waking the next morning feeling emptier somehow. He lays there unmoving, thankful that his schedule is vacant for the few days before the seminar. He closes his eyes and sees Him. Perhaps it’s just stress, or an early midlife crisis. Groaning, he rolls over and stuffs his face into his pillow.

“I sure hope I’m not going mad.”


End file.
